


i make a fist and not a plan

by acegalahads



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (I gave him a trans pride scarf), (it's blink and you miss it but still), I relistened to MAG075 five times for this, I swear this thing is nowhere near serious I'm just bad at tags, M/M, MAG075: A Long Way Down, There's kind of a coffee shop date but with Leitners and existential dread?, There's some implied DominicMike and GerryMike in here I feel like I need to mention, Trans Michael "Mike" Crew, Vast Avatar Stephen Walker (The Magnus Archives)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acegalahads/pseuds/acegalahads
Summary: I made a joking post on tumblr about how if I got 10 notes I'd write a Stephen Walker x Mike Crew fic, I wasn't expecting it to get any notes but it did, I blacked out, and by the time I was aware of my surroundings once again I found this in comic sans on a google doc.Title is from Wrecking Ball by Mother Mother because it vaguely resembled Stephen's anger towards Mike for what happened to his brother and I was desperate for a title.
Relationships: Michael "Mike" Crew & Stephen Walker (The Magnus Archives), Michael "Mike" Crew/Stephen Walker (The Magnus Archives), Stephen Walker (The Magnus Archives) & The Vast (The Magnus Archives)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	i make a fist and not a plan

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhh I post about minor characters a lot here's [my tumblr (updated link)](https://oh-peacemaker.tumblr.com/)

Stephen Walker had sworn to kill the man with the lightning scar. That much was easier said than done however, as over the years it had slowly started to dawn on him that even if he managed to see the man with the lightning scar again, there was no way he’d be able to bring himself to kill him. And so as time went on, he’d stopped keeping such a close eye out, looking for the man who’d taken his brother.

He had, however, developed a strange habit of constantly trying to be as high up as he could be. It had started as part of the search. The man with the lightning scar had something to do with heights, so it was only reasonable that if Stephen wanted to find him, he would have to be up high.

But even as he stopped looking, there was something so refreshing about the air up there. And wide open spaces and thunderstorms too. He had fallen down the stairs a couple months after giving up the search, he had hit the ground much more lightly than he should’ve, but had brushed it off as just being his memory failing to recall the exact feeling. It wasn’t like he regularly fell down the stairs so why should he be able to know exactly what it was supposed to be like. 

He did find himself standing at the top of the stairs a lot after that, just looking down, wondering what it would be like if it happened again.

He didn’t take the underground anymore.

He was in a bookstore when it finally happened.

A storm had shown up out of nowhere, and as much as he wanted to stay out in it, he had things to do later and the rain was falling painfully hard.

So Stephen Walker had ducked inside the nearest shop.

It was fairly plain, to say the least, one of those indie bookstores that doubled as a small coffee shop. Unlike most of its kind, it seemed to have plenty of older books, but the kind that were still good quality and would sell quickly.

Stephen walked up to the counter and ordered a small coffee. If he was going to use this place to hide from the rain, it was only polite to buy  _ something _ . After small talk with the barista about the weather, he looked over to where the tables were.

There was only one other person there, he was small enough for Stephen to not be able to see what he looked like over the stack of books next to him. But as he walked over towards the table next to him, he recognized the man with the lightning scar.

He hadn’t aged a day. He had the same windswept dark brown hair, the same focused expression, the same pale eyes, and the same branching scar creeping up the side of his face. 

His scar was almost completely covered up. He had a dark blue jacket pulled tight around him, it was slightly loose on him and faded from use but still looked expensive, he must have bought it from a thrift store. Around his neck was a faded blue, pink and white knit scarf, it looked like it had been homemade, maybe as a gift or something like that. It was almost endearing to think of the man with the lightning scar like this.

He sat at a table across from him, planning what to do next. The barista had gone into a backroom so it was just the two of them. He sat in silence, waiting for  _ something _ , although he didn’t know what that something was. After a few painfully long minutes, the silence was broken.

“Can I  _ help _ you?” The man with the lightning scar looked annoyed, to say the least, like he didn’t recognize Stephen at all.

“You took my brother three years ago.” He blurted out before he could think about what he was saying.

“And?”

“ _ And? _ ”

“Let me guess, you want some sort of revenge.” The man with the lightning scar leaned back, an amused smile crept across his face and his pale eyes met Stephen’s. He looked into them and could see a storm that would dwarf the one outside within. He almost leaned forwards to look closer, it seemed like a whole universe could fit just inside them, white lightning cracked inside, startling Stephen to his senses.

“Uh, um, yes actually.”

The man with the lightning scar laughed a little.

“What’s your name?”

“You followed me for  _ a year _ to kill my brother and you don’t even remember who I am?”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember your brother either.”

“Then why did you-”

“It was nothing personal, just business.”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s your name?”

“...Stephen Walker.”

“Mike Fairchild.”

“Is that your real name?”

“It’s close enough.”

“I-”

“Be happy I haven’t sent you to join your brother.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because you’re one of mine.”

“One of yours…?”

“Tell me, did you  _ enjoy _ how scared your brother was?”

“Of course not!”

The man with the lightning scar, 'Mike', raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure about that?”

“What the hell are you playing at? Sure, I was pretty mad at him at the time and wanted to get even, and sure, it was entertaining but I never wanted him to be stuck on that ladder!”

“But you liked the rush of his fear, correct?”

“What are you?”

'Mike' glanced over to the room the barista had disappeared into. Stephen followed his gaze.

“Why don’t you lower your voice a little and maybe I’ll tell you.”

Stephen moved over to the seat across from Mike before he realized what he was doing.

“Now will you tell me?”

“Well, the question you should be asking is what are  _ we _ .” Mike paused for a moment after as if he realized what the implication of what he just said was. “I don’t mean that as in- Nevermind.” 

“This isn’t a date.”

“I know it isn’t.”

An awkward silence clung to the air around them, before being broken by Mike softly laughing to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just- if this was a date, which it isn’t, I think it’d be the nicest one I ever had, which is really saying something.”

“The first thing I did was accuse you of killing my brother and you won’t even tell me your real name.” 

“And I think that says a lot about me.” Mike smiled.

“What kind of dates could you possibly be going on...”

“Well, the dating pool isn’t too big when you’re no longer human, and suffice to say that my last two dates have been with my childhood best friend who isn’t human but has no idea, and I don’t have the heart to tell him, and a book-burning goth who is now long-dead.” His smile faded and he reached up to his scarf as he said the last bit, he quickly snapped out of it though, bringing his smile back and moving his hand back to the table quickly enough for it to seem forced. “And for the record,” he leaned in, “my name’s Michael Crew.”

“Is that your real name?”

“It is. Everyone calls me Mike though. And as for Fairchild, I did consider changing it back when I first became an avatar, but never got around to it, Mike Crew does have a certain kind of ring to it.”

“An avatar…?”

“People who get supernatural powers from fear entities and have to create more fear to survive. Don’t think too much about it.”

“And that’s what you are?”

Mike nodded.

“Am I one too?”

“Hm… Almost.”

“Almost?”

“You just have to die.”

“I have to  _ what _ ?

“You have to die. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have to be a  _ physical _ death. I mean, I personally threw myself off the Chichester Cathedral bell tower, but that was more for dramatic effect.” 

Stephen sat there, stunned, for several minutes. Mike patiently waited for a reply until the silence started to speak for itself.

“And that’s exactly how most people react.” He said as he closed his book and slipped it into his bag. “If you ever change your mind,” he paused as he stood up, “It’s not too hard to find me.”

“I, uh, hold on a second.”

“Hm?” Mike was standing just a foot or so away, Stephen didn’t have anything to add but he just wanted to stop him from leaving.

“I, uh…” Stephen trailed off, trying to think of  _ something _ .  _ Anything _ . It wasn’t  _ fair  _ that anyone should have the effect over him that Mike Crew did.

“As much as I’d like to stay longer, I have a meeting with a member of this awful little group known as The Cult of the Lightless Flame and I’d like to avoid being set on fire for lateness.” The lilt in his voice made it clear that unless Stephen said something now, he’d be gone. But Stephen had nothing. 

“Um…” He tried again, but as if to silence his protests, Mike leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. It only lasted a second or two but Stephen tried to memorize the placement of his scarred hand on his jaw and the numbness of his lips, like static electricity was running through him. But Mike pulled away before he could, and Stephen was left wanting more.

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” 

And with that, Mike Crew was gone.

Stephen watched as he walked out into the storm, and as it seemed to follow him. He pressed a hand to his lips as if to make sure they were still there, and when the sky was clear, he walked back outside.

He may need to reconsider a few things.


End file.
